


A Journey I Just Don’t Have a Map For

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 18:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2438396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liquor had this way of delaying what ailed you.  Sometimes that was just what you needed it; most of the time it wasn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Journey I Just Don’t Have a Map For

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from the Savage Garden song, _To the Moon and Back_. I've been very into writing a Hotch and Prentiss separate from my official fanon. Hey, writing is writing, and I'm enjoying exploring all these different facets.

He followed her, kind of, but planned to keep that to himself. It had been a long day, what else was new? They were looking for a serial rapist that seemed to work with cycles of the moon but Emily picked up on some clues that made the team think they were looking for two rapists. They were possibly competing with each other. If that were true, the case just took on a whole new set of complexities.

Hotch told the team that the best thing to do was to get a good night’s sleep and come at it with fresh eyes in the morning. Everyone agreed even though the Unit Chief was sure that Rossi and Morgan were still bouncing ideas off each other, with Reid there because he never forgot things no matter how minute. JJ had a headache and was happy for the break. Hotch watched Emily push off the advances of Dustin Cregg from the local FBI office. She’d spent almost three years in that office and it was clear something happened between the two of them.

Emily remained professional at all times but Cregg knew and quickly located all the chinks in that armor. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His flirting skills were on par with his FBI work and Cregg was good. Despite sometimes wishing his look could kill, Hotch appreciated having him there. With just the local PD, there were occasions where the BAU spent as much time educating them as they did trying to construct a profile.

It was nice to work with someone who knew where they were coming from and could anticipate where they were going. Did Hotch wish the someone had nothing to do with Emily Prentiss, yes, but beggars couldn’t really be choosers. Indianapolis was in trouble and needed all the help they could get. After watching Emily brush the man off for the third time in as many days, Hotch asked her if she needed a ride back to the hotel.

“JJ doesn't feel well so I'm going to drive her. Thanks though.” She was putting files in a box and he started to help.

“So um, Dustin Cregg…”

“What about him?”

He felt the barbed wire go up so he backed off. He didn’t want her to think he was questioning her behavior in any way. They'd been there, done that, and it was over. They were part of a team, friends…maybe more. No, they weren't more and they never would be if he kept this up.

“You two worked together when you were here?” He asked.

“For nearly two years.” She replied, claws still out.

“He's an excellent Agent.” Hotch said.

“The best part about Dustin is that he’s barely trying. He really is just that good. Do you mind finishing this up? I really want to get JJ back to the hotel.”

Hotch nodded and watched her leave. He still couldn’t figure out how they crossed paths over an hour later. Was it luck perhaps? He would’ve normally taken the underground elevator after parking his FBI SUV but it was out of order. Hotch wasn’t thrilled about that because it was raining. He came out of the garage, a large umbrella shielding him.

Emily came out of the hotel when he was just a few feet from the door. She was walking in the opposite direction. Instead of going in, he just kept walking. Hotch made sure to keep his distance. It was barely 8 o’clock so the streets were busy. It was easy to blend in with the locals and tourists that were out despite the weather.

He couldn’t believe he was following Emily…what the hell was he thinking? When had he become a stalker? No, it wasn’t stalking; he was just curious. Curiosity killed the cat so what would it do to the FBI Agent? Hotch couldn’t help himself. He just had to know where she was going and what she was doing. If he caught her in the passionate embrace of what was surely an old flame, he deserved what he got.

They walked for a while, Hotch counted nine blocks, including rounding a corner. Emily finally ducked into a bar called Doc’s. Hotch kept going, stopping at the corner. He turned and came back. He walked into the bar too and shook his umbrella off. The place wasn’t crowded but there were a good number of patrons milling about.

Emily was at one end of the bar so Hotch sat at the other end. He didn’t hear what she was ordering but he watched the bartender pour and knew it was a Jack and Coke. A few minutes later he ordered a glass of Maker’s Mark. When he finished that, too quickly, he ordered another. When Emily finished her drink, too quickly, he told the bartender to send her a sloe comfortable screw up against the wall.

The bartender smirked but did what he asked. When he put it in front of Emily and pointed, she wore no expression on her face. Well, that wasn’t good. Hotch held up his glass up to salute her but Emily called him over with her hand. He got up and joined her.

“Are you projecting, Agent Hotchner?” she asked before he could say anything.

“I don't know what you mean.” He replied.

The way he said it, the innocent look on his boyishly handsome face; she almost believed him. Emily Prentiss knew Aaron Hotchner though…he didn’t do anything without deliberation. He could have easily ordered her and Jack and Coke or a vodka martini.

“What are you doing here?” Emily asked.

“Paulson mentioned the place when I told him what hotel we were staying at.” Hotch sat on the stool next to her. “He said when he used to drink he always came here during the tough or perplexing cases. He said it was quiet enough to think and the bartenders never watered down the drinks.” The story was true but that wasn’t what got Hotch to Doc’s tonight. “I needed a drink tonight, a real drink. I knew if I was home tonight that’s what I would’ve done. A comfortable chair and a stiff drink were calling my name. What would you have done if you were home tonight?”

“Paperwork. Don’t kid yourself; you would’ve done the same, Hotch.”

“No, I mean if I just sent everyone home to clear their minds and get some rest. No paperwork allowed. What would you have done?” Hotch asked.

“I really have no idea.” Emily replied, sipping her drink. “I'm not in the mood to think too much tonight. So whatever I did it would be mindless. I can handle mindless.”

“We can talk about books, movies, or why purple pants will never match with a red shirt.” He said.

“I was actually enjoying the quiet.”

“Oh,” He was taken aback but stood from the bar stool. Following her was a bad idea. What right did he have to invade on her quiet time?

“I'm sorry, Prentiss. I’ll just…”

“You can stay.” When she put her hand over his, heat shot through her entire body. “You can stay as long as you promise not to talk about purple pants and red shirts.”

“Cross my heart.” Hotch did it as he smiled. His dimples came out of their hiding place.

Emily didn’t respond so it quickly faded. Hotch sat back down. Quiet, yeah, he could do quiet.

***

It was raining harder when they left a couple of hours later. Thunder rumbled in the skies above them as Hotch put up the giant black umbrella. Emily stepped under it even though she had one of her own. They made it to the end of the block before he slipped his hand in hers, lacing their fingers. Emily didn’t protest but she didn’t speak either.

They were both nice and buzzed. Normally, it would be described as a happy buzz but the pair wasn’t happy. They were tired and knew the case they were working on would be tougher come morning. There were a million words on the tip of his tongue but Hotch kept his mouth shut.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked, figuring weather questions would be alright.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I like this weather actually.”

“You like the rain?”

“Yes, but I was talking about autumn. The chill underneath the warm was always comforting. I love the idea of snuggling under blankets. It'll be even better tonight with the possibility of a full night’s sleep.

“Oh, I understand.”

The silence crept in again, as heavy as the rain. It was also uncomfortable and Hotch didn’t like that. Emily didn’t either but she had no idea what to say. Sometimes she thought she was right where she wanted to be with Hotch, and then she woke up. Another human being should not be so difficult to read and interpret.

Those who knew Emily well would probably say the same about her but she was not trying to get to the bottom of herself. She had enough problems. It was probably better to stop while she was ahead. Oh right, who was she kidding? Ahead was so far in the rearview mirror it was ridiculous. Sighing, she removed her hand from his and stuck them in her pockets.

Hotch wanted to look at her but he focused straight ahead. He was starting to feel a cold chill and it had nothing to do with the season. He had hoped they would talk tonight. That hadn't happened at all. Emily seemed tired, weary, and he wasn’t going to push her.

Hotch wanted her to enjoy his company, not feel as if they were working. Maybe she wanted to be with someone else tonight. It might not be love with Special Agent Dustin Cregg but they could’ve spent a nice, quiet evening reminiscing. No, he watched her turn him down. Perhaps that was entirely for his benefit and they had plans later. Maybe…”

“Hotch!”

“I'm OK.” He said, struggling to stay on his feet.

He dropped the umbrella, steadying his arms. Emily put her arms around his waist and attempted to pull him upright. A shiver went through his body, which didn’t help at all. He’d missed the deep crack in the sidewalk. It was dark and he was focused on whatever was in front of him.

He was also a little tipsy after two glasses of Maker’s Mark, two shots of something called a Duck Fart, which was whiskey with kahlua, and a Jager bomb. He really hadn't meant to drink that much but they weren't talking so they had to do something. They also ate a pretzel the size of his head with three different dips. Still, he wasn’t drunk…just dumb and clumsy. Hotch’s head was in that giddy, swimmy place where touching and kissing were the most excellent way to pass the time. The last time he felt like this was in San Jose when Emily let him…

“Are you sure?” her hand was on his back now. She thought she heard him groan so she wanted to make sure. He was intoxicated though not drunk. He might be in some pain and not even feel it. Liquor had this way of delaying what ailed you. Sometimes that was just what you needed it; most of the time it wasn’t.

“I'm fine.” He picked up the umbrella. They were both wet now but it didn’t matter too much. They were halfway back to the hotel.

They walked the rest of the way in silence and Hotch put down the umbrella when they got to the door of the Hampton Inn.

“I need a smoke.” Emily said.

“I’ll stay.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She was already getting the sterling silver cigarette case from her purse. Hotch pulled out a lighter as he put the umbrella back up. They moved a safe distance away from the door and back out into the rain.

“I don’t want you down here by yourself.” He said, lighting it for her.

Emily nodded but didn’t say more. He just stood there holding up the umbrella. This was perfect sleeping weather and she thought about that as she felt the cherry vanilla poison bringing her night to an end. This was always the way she came down, a Ziganov and a glass of tea or wine. She’d already had enough to drink tonight.

She would go upstairs, take a hot shower, have a bottle of water with an Advil PM chaser, and jog to the Land of Nod. Emily wasn’t the best sleeper, especially on a case, but she hoped tonight was different. Tomorrow was going to be brutal; it was like going back to the beginning. They needed to find these people and put the women of Indianapolis at ease. This had been her city once, another home that wasn’t quite home…she wanted to do this for them.

“When did you start smoking?” Hotch asked.

His voice broke into her thoughts. Emily looked at him as smoke swirled from her lips.

“I was 15 when I started casually.” She said. “I did it a little more in college and went back to casual when I joined the Academy. I needed my lung power. It’s a good way to come down from a long day. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone but I wouldn’t recommend a lot of what I do to anyone. It reminds me of a different time and place. Not necessarily better, just different.”

With one more long drag, Emily put the clove out in the ashtray close to them. Then she and Hotch went into the hotel. When they got onto the elevator, she looked at her watch. It was 10:43. She hoped to be in bed by 11:30. Seven hours of sleep would be the best she’d done in over a month.

There wasn’t much room for complaint. They got off at the fifth floor and walked down the quiet hallway. He stopped with her at her door. Emily pulled the keycard from her jeans pocket.

The first time it didn’t work. She took a deep breath and tried again. While she was doing that, Hotch rubbed her back and moved closer to her. Instead of turning her on, it made Emily angry. She turned to look at him, eyes flashing brimstone.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I…”

“Go ahead, Aaron, tell me. You're rubbing my back because you're trying to come in aren’t you? You're trying to get what you need from me and then blame it on the goose, right?”

“The goose?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No, no, I know…you want to wipe all of Dustin from me. You want to reclaim me as yours, is that what you were thinking?”

“Emily…”

“What? Tell me I'm wrong. God, you have some nerve. That you could possibly think I would just be fine with having half of you or a quarter of you, or some little piece of you that you decided to give when it suited you. And it only seems to suit you when alcohol is involved. That you think I’d just live with that…it shows your lack of respect for me.”

“I resent that.” His voice turned as angry as hers.

“I could give a damn what you resent, Aaron. I don’t know how you found me tonight but drinking with me doesn’t equal getting in my pants. I've been there, done that, its old news. Go to bed…not in here.”

She turned back to the keycard, got the door open, and slammed it in his face. On the other side, she leaned against it and tried to calm her heartbeat. Emily was breathing hard, like she’d just run a race. She could feel the tears burning the back if her eyes but she willed them not to fall. He wasn’t worth it.

He absolutely was not worth it. That’s all he wanted all night was to get into her room. It was like San Jose all over again. Be damned if she was going to wake up alone, another regret to add to her list of too many. Aaron Hotchner and every man like him could go straight to hell. What an idiot she was to actually think he was different.

***

They had been going over crime scene photos for almost ninety minutes. Pictures were spread all over the conference room table and they compared and contrasted every minute detail. Emily hoped this would separate one Unsub from the other. They worked in cycles and the competition was heating up. They weren't a team but one surely knew about the other.

With five cases, the BAU didn’t know who was ahead. It had to be two of them and no Unsubs had the same M.O. They were going to find the separate signatures; serials were too vain not to have one. Serial rapists were particularly fond of the flourish. They were all sick bastards.

Dustin bought her an extra large Rukoki Gold from her old favorite coffee house, The Mug Shot. Emily hardly knew how to thank him. Instead she apologized for having to subject him to what might be hours of crime scene photos. He shrugged; he was used to it. Then he quipped it was the first time he would be alone with a woman in months. Emily laughed at that, and it was genuine. They disappeared behind the closed door and got to work.

Hotch was in the bullpen working on a geographical profile with Reid. Now the Unsubs were working virtually the same area of town. Rossi and Morgan were in the field working the last crime, which happened less than 48 hours ago. JJ had Garcia on the line looking for any overlaps in the lives of the five victims. Indianapolis wasn’t L.A., the team hoped to hit pay dirt on that aspect of the case.

He watched Emily and Dustin through the glass window. They were standing close, then sitting close, and then leaning close. He didn’t know what Dustin whispered to her but it made Emily smile. Hotch knew if Emily didn’t want Dustin that close then she would tell him so.

She never held back on that sort of thing. She surely didn’t hold back last night telling Hotch just what she thought of him. He didn’t sleep well because that conversation went around on a constant loop in his head. Hotch wanted her, and was hurt and disappointed that he wasn’t invited in.

At the same time, everything Emily accused him of was pretty much spot on. He could see how she could think those things…Hotch did nothing to let her know he felt differently. San Jose was months ago and he never brought it up after it happened. No wonder she felt as if he used her or made a mistake. He wasn’t staying quiet on the subject because he wanted to, necessarily. He just had no idea how to bring it up.

Now was not to the time to be thinking about this. Hotch had tried to shake it off and focus on work but none of the usual tricks worked. The issue needed to be resolved; for the good of the case. He would say what he felt and then Indianapolis could be first again. Nodding, he strode toward the closed door. Reid was talking but Hotch had no idea if he was speaking to him or not. He knocked on the door, poking his head in.

“Excuse me, Prentiss?”

“Yeah?” She looked up from the photos at him. They had barely said a word to each other all morning and she liked it that way. It wasn’t the most conducive to working together but Emily still needed more time to cool off. He totally fucked her night up and she had no idea when she would have the opportunity for seven hours of sleep again. For that alone Hotch deserved her wrath.

“We need to talk…I have something.”

She nodded, getting up from the chair. She was halfway to the door before turning back to Dustin. “Look at the two Braxton Circle scenes. That’s where the M.O. varies; I think that’s our second guy.”

“What did you see?” Dustin asked.

“You tell me; I don’t want to influence you.”

“Too late,” He grinned. “I'm on it.”

Hotch frowned at his grin and Emily walked out into the bullpen with him.

“Should we be keeping Dustin out of the loop where this case is concerned?” She asked, automatically crossing her arms.

“This isn’t about the case. Can we step outside a moment please?”

“It’s raining, Hotch.”

“I thought you liked the rain.” He tried for a smile but was met with a stone face. It was probably better to just get this over with. “I need to talk to you and I can't do it in here. Please Emily.”

She didn’t want to talk to him but Emily felt herself conceding. That was the problem, she always conceded. Hotch grabbed the umbrella he carried last night after she nodded.

“We’ll be right back, Spencer.” He asked.

“Are you going to get coffee?” Spencer asked.

“No.”

“OK.” He went back to his map with markers and pushpins.

Hotch and Prentiss walked out of the building and off to the side. There were officers and detectives coming and going…laypeople were as well. Hotch shielded them from the rain, taking a deep breath.

“I deserved everything you said last night.”

Emily wanted to agree, wholeheartedly, but remained silent. She just crossed her arms again.

“I'm sorry, Emily. I don’t exactly know what blaming it on the goose means but I have a general idea. I can't deny that it’s easier to lower my inhibitions when liquor is involved but to say I have no respect for you…nothing could be farther from the truth. I respect you immensely as an Agent and a person. As a woman…” He reached for her hand. “When this is all over I think we need to sit down and have a long talk.”

“No,” She shook her head. “We either talk too much about nothing or we say nothing at all. I don’t want to talk.”

“What do you want to do?” The words managed to stumble out of his mouth.

“You figure out what you want to do, and then you can take me to dinner.” Emily said.

“Where?”

“Dammit Hotch, that’s up to you. You make the plans; you find the place. I know what I want. You know what I want. I don’t think you know what you want. When you figure it out, you can call me.”

“Emily…”

She put her finger on his lips and shook her head again.

“When you figure it out just call me. I need to get back upstairs; Dustin can't be left to his own devices for too long. I also don’t want my coffee to get cold. We need to solve this case and I think we’re close to making sense from the senseless. C'mon.”

As they were going back into the building, Rossi and Morgan pulled up to the door. They didn’t bother to dodge the rain. Hotch held the door.

“How are we doing?” The Unit Chief asked as they made their way back to the bullpen.

“We’re getting warmer.” Rossi replied.

“I think its time to construct a profile.” Emily said. “We need to jump in with both feet.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Hotch said, looking at her. “Sometimes you have to mix everything in the pot and believe its going to make something edible.”

“Lets do it.” Morgan said. “We’re ready.”

Hotch told Rossi to get Cregg, they were ready to go. It was time to catch the criminals and make the city a little safer for the female population. After that was done maybe he could get his affairs in order. How could he be so good at one thing and bad at everything else?

As he looked at Emily preparing to give her piece of the profile, he knew she was worth it. Just like last night, she would pick him up when he stumbled. She would also set him straight when he fell off the path. The rest of the way Emily would just hold on. That’s what Hotch wanted and what he needed. All he had to do was say it.

***

  



End file.
